


Primum Conventum

by firebird01



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, bc he probably didnt realise until then that poor people are people, first meeting so theyre like young and stuff, haha - Freeform, hisoka punches him in the face, illumi is a classist piece of shit, might be ooc but, yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firebird01/pseuds/firebird01
Summary: It’s fucking dark, Illumi is bleeding out but like hell he’ll actually ask for help, Hisoka is Hisoka, they’re both teenagers and they probably want to kill each other as soon as they see each other, and that will probably never change.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 4
Kudos: 123





	Primum Conventum

**Author's Note:**

> (Pre-canon. Hisoillu drabble, probably really ooc but that’s how I like it baby.)

Being the boy he was, Hisoka was skipping.

And he was having fun. Probably. He guessed he was.

Skipping was fun. He thought it was, maybe. He didn’t know. He’d pretend it was. He liked to pretend a lot, that’s for sure.

He liked that actually. He liked that he was a good actor. It made him feel like he knew something about himself that other people didn’t; that he could lie so well without thinking about it. He couldn’t think of the last person that read him like a book… he’d like to keep it that way.

But he stopped skipping and he frowned. There was something bothering him. And exciting him. And irritating him. And it goes on.

‘ _Well…_ ’ he sighed mentally, ‘might as well find out who’s dying. _‘_ Suppose that’s more fun than skipping around like a dumbass at midnight, right?’ he thought, peering by each corner of the street and looking over boxes, trying to listen in for any signs of a struggle.

As a squatter and a thief, it wasn’t like there was someone waiting for him at— _if you’d even call it that_ —home; so, he decided to spend the rest of his night trying to find out which unlucky sob was bleeding out in an alleyway.

* * *

The sob had turned out to be another teenage boy.

“ _Shit_ ,” the boy breathed, ragged and hurt, gasping, trying to get as much air into his lungs as possible.

The ravenette was leaning against a brick wall, his most likely new, obviously pricey jeans now dirty from the dust beneath him. His short black hair was stuck to his face along with muck and sweat, his eyes slammed shut from pain. He looked weak there— grinding his teeth, holding his side; it was red.

There was a pool of blood beneath the boy.

‘Looks like he’s about dead,’ Hisoka thought, a little bummed out that his job was already halfway done.

Just as Hisoka was about to take a step closer to the boy, a pin was launched right directly to the middle of his forehead— he had dodged it by a single second by crouching down at the perfect moment.

“My, my, you’ve still got fight in you for someone with no more than a few more minutes left to live-”

“ _I am not afraid to kill you right here._ _Right_ _now. I will use my blood as a timer and once I completely bleed out we will both be dead_.”

…

There was an awkward smile on Hisoka’s face.

“Um _... huh?_ ”

There was a one-sided tension coming from the other boy, who was glaring at Hisoka with such hatred that it almost made him the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Almost.

“Uhhh you good?”

He never thought he’d be asking that, especially to a person he was about to kill, but Hisoka was just-... he didn’t expect _that_ monstrosity of a reply.

The ravenette _tssk_ ’ed.

“... If you’re going to kill me j-just…  _dammit_ _, do it now._ ”

Hisoka put his hands on his hips, and groaned.

‘Well, _now_ I’m not gonna do it,’

He just looked up at the night sky, sighed, and let his shoulders sag.

… For some reason, the night sky seemed to calm him down a tiny bit. After all, with no real home, it was the only roof he really had over his head.

Quickly after his little moment, he looked to the side, continuously hitting his foot against the ground, slightly irritated.

Hisoka was a little bit surprised. By now, the boy in front of him should’ve been dead…

It struck his interest.

Maybe the other boy wasn’t as weak as he had first thought. That could be useful?

“... _Ugh_ ,” he started gracefully, “just how much are you bleeding? Can you even move? Like, at all?”

The dark-haired boy’s eyes widened— which, now that Hisoka got a good look at them, they were huge and round.

Okay, to be honest, it was mostly the pupils that were so.

They were dark. Pitch black. They reminded Hisoka of the night sky he had looked at so many nights before, the nights when he couldn’t sleep— the sky above him now, the darkness, the only thing that stayed the same; the stars in the skies. They even reflected in the other boy’s eyes. Though they were so dark, they still shone.

Hm.

...

Anyways, the other boy in front of Hisoka seemed to try and crawl closer to the wall he had been half laying, half reclining on, his hands on his bloodied hip, holding it tightly, like it was going to fall off his body if he stopped grabbing it.

“H- _huh-?_ ”

Hisoka crouched down in front of him, digging his hand into the small pouch he had at his side to find something, “Like, how bad is your wound? I’m guessing they stabbed you in the kidney or something, no?”

“ _I’m bleeding by my side it’d be my fucking colon, dumbass_ ,”

Hisoka stayed quiet for a moment.

“... I _don’t…_ I-I don’t know enough about organs and intestines to know if that’s right-”

“Can’t you tell?! After all, _you’re_ not the one bleeding out on the ground-! Is your head not screwed on right, or did you just not go to school?!”

“... _Uhhh-_ ”

“ _This_ is why I hate lowlifes like _you-_ ” the boy twitched his nose, looking away, disdain- _disgust_ , on his face, “-uneducated, grimy, street ra- **_OWWW_ ** **\- WHAT THE** **_FUCK_ ** **WHY’D YOU PUNCH ME?!** **_I’M_ ** **_ALREADY_ ** **_BLEEDING OUT WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!!_ **”

Hisoka rolled his eyes, but finally smiled once he found what he was looking for- bandages. He moved closer to the other boy.

“ _Ew,_ what the fuck don’t touch me-”

 _Okay, that was it;_ Hisoka had to let out a shaky breath and look up at the sky again to stop himself from actually ripping the other kid’s head off.

… He had an idea.

“What’s your name?”

“Why do you  care?” the ravenette snapped, scowling, looking at Hisoka, still not letting him get close, but not exactly thrashing around anymore.

Hisoka closed his eyes and rolled them internally.

“... _Well_ ,  my name is Hisoka… Kyogi, as I’ve been told, and I’d like to know _your_ name.”

The boy looked away and frowned, but let Hisoka approach him with the bandages and to begin to take care of his wound.

“... Illumi Zoldyck,”

“ _Illumi…?_ ” Hisoka smiled lightly, “It’s pretty,” he blinked kindly, something he didn’t often do. Yeah he was a murder, a thief, a whatever you want to call it— he also wasn’t legally allowed to drink. He was pretty young, still. 

On that note; did he still do it? Well, he’d probably lie to you about that answer.

Anyways… Illumi stayed quiet for a moment.

…

Well, Hisoka _was_ happy. Maybe. Probably. Right now he was pretty sure he was at the very damn least content… he wasn’t the smartest man in the world, but he was quick-minded enough to realise that humanizing himself in front of Illumi’s eyes would make this hellish situation a shit ton easier, at the very least, again. Well that, and he’d also get to familiarise himself with another person.

Hisoka liked meeting new people.

...

“Did you hear my last name?” Illumi muttered after a long time.

“Huh?” Hisoka looked up from where he was cleaning Illumi’s wound, “‘Zoldyck’? Uh, yeah, I heard you,”

‘… _Last names, huh?’_ Hisoka thought, an almost sad smile on his face.

“... So... if you _know…_ ” Illumi looked away again, not having the strength to look at Hisoka in any possible way— not his clothes, his hair, his face, _nothing_.

“-... my name, my _family_ , the money you could get— and obviously _need—_ from just… killing me… why-”

“It just doesn’t interest me right now,” Hisoka shook his head; by now, he started wrapping Illumi’s wound with the bandages since he had finished cleaning it. You know, Hisoka had said that a little too fast.

“... killing you right now, I mean,” he tried to say casually, “and I don’t do it for the money. I kill and steal from enough people to get by,” he waved his hand, like he was already tired of explaining.

“... That’s not true,” Illumi spoke, almost without meaning to, “I can tell you need it. I don’t say so because of your ripped, bitten-through clothes, as obvious as that makes it— your hair is stringy. You have a lot of hair, but it just keeps falling off. Not only that, your ribs are showing; partly because of the holes in your shirt, partly because you’re an idiot who decided to walk outside with a tattered, dirty crop top. By the way, your belt and shoes are worn— clearly a necessity and not a luxury. Your cheeks look hollow too, and your eyes look dead. Someone with a comfortable life generally looks at the very least content even with a neutral expression. I don’t believe you. You’re not getting by. You’re not even _barely_ getting by. When was the last time you ate?”

“... Are all rich people annoying, or is that just you?” Hisoka laughed weakly, sweating a bit, both terrified and angry that Illumi was able to see through his soul. He stopped wrapping the bandages, and he dug his fingers into his palms. He bit his lip, almost shaking.

“What, surprised anyone has ever shown concern over you?”

The night was generally silent. Yes, that’d be a good way to describe it all.

There were a couple cars out on the street, and even those were few and far between. There were a couple of buzzes though; crickets, of course. Not people really, not at all.

Just animals. Simple noises. Quiet night overall.

...

For just that second, it seemed like Hisoka and Illumi were the only two people alive in the world.

...

“Hisoka, you never answered my question.”

It almost surprised Illumi how easy the name rolled off his tongue, like he had said it millions and millions of times before. I mean, maybe he had. Maybe he hadn’t? He was too delirious and tired to really care all that much. Except he did care for an answer at least.

Hisoka really… felt weird when he heard it from Illumi’s voice.

He’d heard _every_ emotion with his name. Anger. Fear. Disappointment. Shock. Contempt.

But never… pure _acknowledgement._ Nothing else… just… recognition of another person.

Like he had been seen for the first time in a long time.

No judgement.

No ulterior motive.

Just... blankness.

“... Yeah,” Hisoka let out a short exhale, “yup. I didn’t.” he was almost breathless.

“What about your parents?” Illumi prodded, showing off how little social skills he had, “I mean, you’re wasting your time out here. My parents know I’m out, they are the ones that sent me on this mission after all. Did you get told you could go out?”

“My father was in and out of my life _all_ my life, which did _wonders_ to my mental health,” he mockingly explained, “and if I ever see my mother’s face again, I think I would actually have to murder her before she killed _me_. So, long story short, no, I did not ask if I could go out,”

“My family is everything to me,” Illumi shared his side, not having the common sense to not dwell into his family and not having the common sense to say _I’m sorry that happened to you_ , but… it’s Illumi. He couldn’t help it exactly.

“I care about them a lot. That is why I think I’m happy right now,”

Hisoka raised a brow. He would’ve asked Illumi what the fuck he was talking about considering the stoic, bland, expressionless face he held.

Hisoka didn’t, though, because a second later he just guessed… that was just… Illumi.

Which, to Hisoka’s credit, it was.

“Because you are helping me and that means that I can go back to them. So I guess I must thank you, or whatever,”

“... You're so eloquent,” Hisoka laughed lightly, staring down at the white bandages— pure, and clean.

Not like the rest of Illumi. Not like Illumi's hands, which held the blood of not only him, but of his previous victims as well. Not like Illumi’s clumpy hair, sticky because there was blood in it. Illumi, in fact, hated the feeling, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been used to it. He wondered why in God's green Earth he had ever wanted to grow it out when it was so difficult to deal with short hair already.

… Still then, he could always tie it back. Or be a better assassin so he would not get a drop of blood stuck in it again.

The bandages were so bright because they weren’t dirty. Everything else was. There was soot and dust and muck and grime everywhere, but it just stuck out to him that something _he_ did was clean. And constructive. And helpful. And good

He just  stared at them.

And he silently prayed to a God he did not believe in that it would remain pure and clean, and that it wouldn’t turn pink or red from blood.

“Surprised you know what that word means,”

Hisoka looked up.

“You know you finished bandaging me a long time ago. What’re you playing at?” Illumi asked, an edge to his tone.

Hisoka didn’t have an answer.

“... I’m… not even doing anything this time,” he said, a bit confused.

It was true. He didn’t know why either of them were still there but… they were. And even after Illumi asked, neither of them were getting up.

They weren’t walking away. They weren’t going home.

They were just there. And they were just staring.

“... Why did you say your last name is ‘falsehood’? Why did you lie to me?”

Hisoka went cold.

“... I-It means s-something else-”

“No, it doesn’t when you hesitate to give it and hesitate to defend it without being able to look at me in the eye.”

In a way, that wasn’t all true— Hisoka _was_ looking at the night sky.

“... Well, it’s Kakusu, if it bothers you so much,”

“No it’s not. That means ‘hide’.”

Hisoka swore one of these days he would punch Illumi in the face again.

“ ** _OH MY_ ** **_GOD ,_ ** **_IT’S MOROW, IT’S MOROW OKAY IT’S._ ** **_HISOKA_** ** _._ ** **_MOROW_** ** _. FUCKING SHUT UP FOR ONCE,_ ** **_CHRIIIST_** ** _._ **” Hisoka was breathing heavy once he finished, glaring, staring at Illumi with a strange, non-anger he hadn’t felt in a long time.

…

…

…

Illumi smiled, letting out an exhale of amusement.

“Okay. I believe you now.”

Hisoka clicked his tongue, trying to hide a smile.

“I don’t know how you suppress all your emotions except when you feel like pissing me off.”

It was almost funny how they were talking like old war buddies.

Almost.

…

They were just staring again.

“... Hisoka.”

“Illumi?”

* * *

Hisoka wasn’t sure he’d seen a bigger house in his entire life.

“...”

He would’ve said something to justify his shocked expression, one finger up, his mouth half opened— but nothing came out.

He closed it again and looked away from Illumi, who was leaning on him- _because he was still_ _hurt_ _,_ of course.

…

Hisoka frowned.

The night sky was leaving.

Dawn was cracking away the night sky, teasing a red colour. No, pink. No, purple. No, blue?

… He had never really stared at dawn before, actually. Maybe he shouldn’t judge before trying it…

Maybe it was Illumi’s fault for leaning on him, but he felt warm.

It was weird, almost uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to it.

It was… just… _weird_. It was really quiet and he was finding out that he liked the calmness of dawn. And that he liked the feeling of someone leaning on him as they both silently, calmly, stared at the approaching sunrise.

“... Y-you should uh,” Hisoka regretfully began speaking, hating himself for breaking the quiet. Illumi stared.

“You should… get your fucking, uh… thingy looked at-”

“My stab wound?”

“... Yeah, that- you should, um-” he hated this. Why the fuck was he nervous? What the hell?

“You should get it… looked at and stuff by like, not an asshole-”

Illumi stared, before he somehow cracked another smile again.

Hisoka felt really really _really_ happy that he got Illumi to do that. He wanted Illumi to do it another time. He wanted to make Illumi do it again. Like, right now. He wanted Illumi to smile again like now. He really wanted him to. 

‘... _But,_ _why_ _?_ ’

He swallowed, a nervous grin on his face. It was obvious what he was feeling. He hated that.

“Okay. I will.”

…

…

…

“... Illumi.”

“Hisoka?”

Hisoka was fidgeting with his fingers, and he moved a hand to push back the bangs from his eyes to try and stop his habit. It was like being stuck in that simple routine was actually driving him insane.

“... Can we meet again?”

Illumi stopped, separating from Hisoka as he reached out and grabbed the door frame in front of him.

“Hisoka… assassins don’t have friends. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“... We don’t _have_ to be friends,” Hisoka looked up at Illumi, eyes locked. Illumi was staring again. Blank.

But not blank.

Because Hisoka saw the lines around his eyes, around his mouth, and around his eyebrows and he could see what he felt.

Torn. He felt _torn_.

Hisoka didn’t know why he so desperately _needed_ to meet Illumi again. And again and again and again and again and again but he did. But for the little social skills he had he wasn’t going to say it like that.

He was so overwhelmed at the intimacy of Illumi’s emotion that he almost didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt special and stupid and he regreted even seeking Illumi out because he was confused and he hated that, but at the same time he would’ve actually probably rather have died than not helped Illumi.

By now he had absolutely lost track of why his mind was working this way at the most inconvenient time. He’d yell at it later.

“... Well, if you say that we don’t have to be friends, then I suppose I would be very much so interested in meeting you again,”

There was a slight smile there.

Hisoka almost felt angry. It was weird. How was it fair that Illumi got to make him feel warm just by looking at him? He wasn’t being leaned on by Illumi, but he still felt the warmth there.

He wasn’t mad at Illumi. He just…

He was confused. They were both confused.

But, happy. They could confidently say they were.

Not out loud, of course.

But it was strange. It was really really really strange.

“... You talk like an old man,” was the only thing Hisoka could think of to say.

“Yeah. I do. Except when you piss me off,” Illumi referenced Hisoka’s words from earlier, and now it wasn’t fair that Illumi’s voice alone could make him feel warm, but that was life. Not fair. Or clear.

It was confusing and unjust.

But Hisoka guessed it was okay, because life wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to him anyways.

“... Well… y’know…”

“... I think… we should... meet next week, same spot same day same time?”

Hisoka grinned again.

“Okay. I’d like that.”

And they were back to staring.

Hisoka almost thought he’d said something wrong, but that was until Illumi reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

“Huh-”

Illumi shoved it into Hisoka’s face, most likely honestly believing that would get rid of the confusion.

It did not.

“ _Stop being poor_.” was the only thing Illumi could say.

He closed the door on Hisoka, and Hisoka looked at the money.

…

‘... _It’s too much_.’

He opened his mouth once to protest, but he was in front of the Zoldyck Manor with no one in sight, so he shut up and rolled it into his bag.

…

He got an idea as he walked away.

‘... _What if I dye my hair? Like… a dawn colour. Red. Or pink. Or blue. Or something_ ,’

He decided that he liked the thought. He also reasoned that he should do it before he saw Illumi again. It could be a nice surprise, maybe.

Hisoka, being the boy he was, started skipping back to his, what he called proudly, a home. It was his, even if he didn’t have a paper saying so. It had an opened roof to look at the sky.

He liked that.

He liked a lot of things.


End file.
